


things better left unsaid

by fantasycostco



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Multi, it just works, neither can derek, sterek, stiles can't use his words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 09:35:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/860629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantasycostco/pseuds/fantasycostco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has never been able to talk about how he feels but somehow it all ends up alright.</p>
            </blockquote>





	things better left unsaid

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd.

 He doesn't talk a lot. Well, he does but he doesn't talk about what matters. He says a lot of things about anything other than what he really wants to, it's just the way he works. He's been doing it for a very long time. Nobody notices and that's how he likes it. Of course somebody used to notice these things. She's not here to tell him to speak up anymore.

 He remembers that as a child he was quiet. That's what people told his parents. It was something that worried his father to no end. His mother would only smile and brush her fingers through his fathers hair. _Everything will be okay_ , that's what she told him. For awhile everything was okay. He would speak, the words soft and hesitant, before his mom would encourage him to say what he wanted. She taught him the art of conversation, and how to get people to understand what he was feeling with words. He talked a lot more, words upon words, so much so that his father would laugh and tell him to slow down. That didn't last very long either.

  _Everything will be okay_ , that became his mothers mantra when she would bruise too easily, bleed too much. That was what she said when the doctors said she was getting better. That the treatments had been successful. It was also the last words she rasped. Her pink lips dribbled with red, her cinnamon eyes sharp she repeated it to him as he cried. She did not die on impact. _She did not die on impact_.

  _blunt force trauma to the head, internal bleeding, severe blood loss, lacerations to  the chest, broken leg_.

 Those words meant nothing to him, they did not save his mother. They put her in a coma and she did not smile, she did not wake up. The only thing she did was listen to him talk at her. It was the only thing he could do for his mother, keep her company. His father had retreated into his job, and the bottle of whatever alcohol he had in the cabinet. He retreated into the words his mother had taught him. He brought a dictionary to the hospital with him after school everyday and read the words he had used. His words don't make him any more popular, he loses any friends he could have gained by getting on Jackson Whittemores bad side. He doesn't tell anyone about the bruises. 

 The nurses felt sorry for him, always asking how he was doing, how was his father. He couldn't tell them that he was taking care of his father, he was taking care of the house, that he was not coping at all. He wouldn't get his father taken away, he couldn't handle losing someone else he loved. He said the only thing that he could.

  _Thank you, we're doing okay._

 Eighty days after the crash his father visits his mother in the hospital. They pull the plug. He does not take it well.

 He used his words to build a castle around himself and his words kept everyone safe. He spat them out at a hundred miles per hour to anyone who had an ear. The sheer amount of things he could say was surprising in itself. To everyone else though, it was annoying. Nobody would even look at him, let alone engage in conversation. It was terribly lonely. Which is why he was surprised, and a little delighted, to find that Scott McCall stuck by his side any way.

 Scott McCall was a listener. Obviously Scott spoke just...not as much as he could. Scott liked to contribute bits to the conversation and be part of it but at the same time he enjoyed hearing what his best friend was saying. Even if he didn't understand it half the time.

 Even if his words kept him and Scott on the bottom of the social ladder neither of them really minded. That is, until one night out in the woods while hunting for the other half a dead body Scott got bit. _By a werewolf_. Suddenly his popularity mattered, especially because of the new girl, the amazing Allison Argent. Who, for some reason, was in love with his best friend who stopped listening to the utter nonsense that came out of his mouth. That's when things went downhill. His words faltered. His words failed him. The world fell apart. Everyone else moved on.

 Sometimes in his world, where time was sluggish and the words from his mouth were drawn out and stuttered, he thought he saw someone else with him. Often times it had been Lydia, she was just as stuck as him. Her castle coming down around her, the king gone, and the people revolting. Other times it was Derek. He thinks this is what he prefers. They sit on the porch of his burnt down childhood home. The woods around them are quiet, he doesn't feel the need to speak so much. He thinks that perhaps him and Derek have a lot more in common than just dead family members. Maybe there is a little hand holding in between words but that's not what matters here. What matters is that sometimes you don't need words in order to express how you feel. He's the only that sees that. He's the only one that sees a lot of things actually.

 He talks and talks to anyone with an ear, and that is how it is. Nothing ever changes, not really. His father still works a shit ton, and drinks when he thinks he isn't looking, and Scott is still his best friend. His mother is still gone. _Nothing ever lasts long_ , that was his mantra for the longest time. Now though, he thinks he can see what his mother meant when she said everything will be okay.

  _Everything will be okay_ _because the sky is still blue and the grass is still green and there are always more words_ _than he could possibly say, and maybe that's the point. He doesn't need those words to tell people how he feels. Derek understands and that is all he really needs._


End file.
